


it’s always easy (when you fake it)

by illusemywords



Category: Rusty Quill Gaming (Podcast)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - Rock Band, Angst, Background Grizzop/Vesseek, Background Relationships, Blood and Injury, Canon Asexual Character, Canon Disabled Character, Canonical Character Death, Depression, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Jealousy, M/M, Minor Character Death, Modern Era, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Press and Tabloids, Slow Burn, Touring, Unresolved Tension, Violence, no magic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-18
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-14 06:33:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29538279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/illusemywords/pseuds/illusemywords
Summary: February 5th 2019: Still Working on the Name announces second album and first headlining tourStill Working on the Name announced their second studio album today, as well as an 18 city European tour starting this May. The 10 track album is titled Ghost Stories (Zombie Blues), and will be released at midnight on April 13.Tickets go on sale this Friday. The full list of tour stops can be found at the link below. Find out if they’re coming to a city near you!orThe band AU that hasn't left my mind since I first thought of it in November.
Relationships: Zolf Smith/Oscar Wilde
Comments: 49
Kudos: 65





	1. prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is dedicated to the When in Rome discord server, because there's no way I would have gotten here without them cheering me on.
> 
> I have no idea how long this fic is going to be, but I have the next five chapters mostly written, and I have vague outlines for the five after that, so I'm hoping to at least be vaguely consistent in posting. 
> 
> The title is from the song 'fucked up all the time' by Cian Ducrot.

**September 8th 2016: Excerpt from Down and Out in Other London: Exploring the Other London Punk Scene  
** Written by Tjelvar Stornsasson 

We ventured out to Other London last night to attend an open mic night at the pub The Bloody Bulldog. It was an enjoyable evening, more because of the food than the music - The Bloody Bulldog is famous for its eel quiche, as developed by owner Gragg Coulson. Of the fifteen groups performing, only one was really worth our time. 

[...]

The one standout act of the night was a group who simply introduced themselves as “We’re still working on the name”. It was immediately unclear if that is the name of the band, or if they are indeed still working on the name, but a quick clarification from their frontman after their set has confirmed that that is indeed the name of the band.

Their songs are well-written and catchy, and brings with them a refreshing air compared to the otherwise mediocre performances of the night. Watching them was a true joy, and I can only imagine they are going great places. 

**July 4th 2017: Up and coming new pop punk band Still Working on the Name rockets up the charts  
** Written by Amelie Rose

Still Working on the Name is an up and coming London band that was virtually unknown mere weeks ago. Now, their first single, titled London/Other London is rocketing up the charts after the music video went viral on YouTube. The song plays into well-established pop punk traditions, but doesn’t pander to them unnecessarily in the way some fresh bands tend to do.

The band was started by drummer Zolf Smith, in the basement of a London pub. The other members – frontman Hamid Saleh Haroun al-Tahan, guitarist Bertie MacGuffingham, and bassist Sasha Racket – were found when Smith made a post on Facebook announcing open auditions. They did not know each other beforehand, but seem to have great chemistry.

The unconventional name supposedly comes from one of their earliest shows, when al-Tahan introduced them as “We’re still working on the name” before their set started. Someone in the audience was filming, and put the video of the performance up under the title “Still Working on the Name”. The band reportedly found this amusing enough that they decided to keep it.

They were first discovered by charismatic one-hit-wonder turned manager Oscar Wilde, whom many will remember for his hit single “Hearts Are Meant to Be Broken”. From there on out the pieces moved quickly towards an album with world famous Meritocratic records, who also signed Oscar Wilde back in the day. 

Still Working on the Name’s first album _Mr. Ceiling_ releases next week on July 18th. We’re excited to see what this fresh young band has planned next. 

**February 10th 2018: Quick Fingers announces Summer Tour  
** Written by Tjelvar Stornsasson 

Quick Fingers announces that they will head out on a European summer tour, starting June 15th 2018\. 

The band will be hitting the road with support from Still Working on the Name.

Presale is available now, and general tickets go on sale this Friday at noon here. 

In a Tweet from Quick Fingers frontman James Barnes, he confirms that they will be going on tour this summer, with support from Still Working on the Name. 

[Tweet embed]

James Barnes (@jamesbarnes)

Yes, you heard right! We’re hitting the road again, this time for a fun Summer tour with our new friends Still Working on the Name. We’re excited to see you all out there on the road. For more information, see the link below. 

This will be Still Working on the Name’s first supporting tour, and the band’s frontman Hamid Saleh Haroun al-Tahan has responded to our inquiries by saying, “We’re really excited and grateful for this opportunity. It’s an incredible honour to get to tour with Quick Fingers. They’ve been a huge influence on our music, and we’re incredibly excited to work with them.” 

Quick Fingers’ new album _Captain Thief_ is out now. Find out where to buy it below.

**June 7 2018: Quick Fingers tour starts today!  
** Written by Auguste Lumière

Quick Fingers’ summer tour starts today, with the support of Still Working on the Name. Their first show is tonight in Paris, France. 

They’ll be doing a total of 23 shows in 20 cities over the span of a month. 

For the full tour schedule, see below. 

**July 5, 2018: Lover’s Quarrel Breaking up the Band? Bertie MacGuffingham leaves Still Working on the Name  
** Written by Auguste Lumière

During their first supporting tour for Quick Fingers, the guitarist seems to have hastily announced his departure from the band. The news comes after the band’s latest show in Berlin, Germany. 

Several social media posts appear to show MacGuffingham having some sort of argument with the band’s manager Oscar Wilde. Multiple witnesses have reported that Wilde and MacGuffingham were seen leaving a bar together, followed by an altercation. It is unclear exactly what the nature of the argument was, but some have speculated that Wilde and MacGuffingham may have had a relationship that was more than strictly professional, and that this may have contributed to MacGuffingham leaving the band. 

No comment has been made by any of the remaining members or their management, other than to state that they are continuing their tour and that they will be picking up a replacement guitarist in Amsterdam.

This certainly wouldn’t be the first time Oscar Wilde was caught in a relationship of this nature. Once upon a time he was inappropriately involved with his manager, Francois Henri. Their relationship ended in a dramatic public outburst, not unlike what we have seen today with Mister MacGuffingham. Whether this is history repeating itself, or something else entirely, remains to be seen.

We will continue to update this as more information is made available. 

**October 2018: Grizzop drik acht Amsterdam becomes new permanent member of Still Working on the Name  
** Written by Tjelvar Stornsasson 

Following the abrupt departure of guitarist Bertie MacGuffingham from the band last July, he was temporarily replaced by Dutch guitarist Grizzop drik acht Amsterdam for the remaining month of their supporting tour. Representatives of the band can now confirm that Amsterdam will be joining the band on a permanent basis. 

Mr. drik acht Amsterdam is an Amsterdam native, but he has spent years living in London, where he has previously performed at some of the clubs where Still Working on the Name got their start. While they apparently did not directly know each other, they had friends in common, and it was these friends that brought them together when the band was in sudden need of a new guitarist. Mr. drik acht Amsterdam has not responded to our requests for a comment, but he posted on Twitter late last night after the announcement was made. 

[Tweet embed]

Grizzop drik acht Amsterdam (@GrizzopAmsterdamn)

It’s official, folks, you aren’t getting rid of me [peace sign emoji]

The departure of Mr. MacGuffingham is still a bit of a mystery in the music world. Pictures and videos taken the night before his sudden departure show some sort of altercation between MacGuffingham and the band’s manager, former singer Oscar Wilde. Mr. Wilde has denied that they had any sort of relationship beyond their professional one. 

“I would never compromise or take advantage of the trust my clients have put in me by getting involved romantically or sexually with any of them,” Mr. Wilde said when meeting the press the day after MacGuffingham’s departure. He also commented on the specific incident, vehemently denying that there was any truth to the rumours about the two. “Nothing happened, and as I have stated previously, there was nothing going on between us. What you see in those pictures and videos is nothing more than a misunderstanding that occurred between Mr. MacGuffingham and myself. Following this misunderstanding, Mr. MacGuffingham himself made the decision to leave the band. That is all I have to say on the matter at this time.” 

Mister Bertie MacGuffingham has not responded to our multiple requests for comments, however his representatives tell us he is currently skiing in the Swiss alps. 

It will certainly be interesting to see how Still Working on the Name moves on from this, and how the addition of Mr. drik acht Amsterdam will alter their sound. 

**February 5th 2019: Still Working on the Name announces second album and first headlining tour  
** Written by Amelie Rose

Still Working on the Name announced their second studio album titled Ghost Stories (Zombie Blues) today, as well as a 18 city European tour starting this May. 

The album releases at midnight on April 12 th , get your preorder in now!

Tickets for the tour go on sale this Friday. The full list of tour stops can be found at the link below. Find out if they’re coming to a city near you!

**May 3, 2019: Feature: Join Still Working on the Name on their first headlining tour**

Written by Tjelvar Stornsasson 

I was fortunate enough to get to shadow Still Working on the Name for the first two days of their first headlining tour. Their first two shows took place in London, where the band was formed. Only one of the members is actually from London, but they still refer to the city as their "hometown crowd". 

Despite having not known each other before they started the band together, the four of them have the easy rapport of people who have been friends for decades. Even Mr. drik acht Amsterdam, who has only been with the band for less than a year now, feels more at home here than Mr. MacGuffingham ever did. 

In some ways, they are exactly the same people off stage as they are when they on stage every night and put on a great show. But in a lot of ways, they’re really not.

Hamid Saleh Haroun al-Tahan is not your typical charismatic frontman. He is certainly charismatic, and he can be aloof and confident on stage when he wants, but he’s also easily the band’s sweetheart. He always has a smile ready for a fan, or an autograph. He has confidence in everything he does, and he knows how talented he is, but he never brags. If given half a chance, he’ll spend any press time he gets talking up his band mates. Or their backstage crew, for that matter. I can’t count the interviews I’ve done where Hamid will start going on and on about their technicians, or their security team, or even their bus driver, Amelia Earhart.

Guitarist, Grizzop drik acht Amsterdam is cooler than anyone else in the room, and he knows it. He’ll crack a joke and threaten to shoot your knees off in the same sentence, and you’re never quite sure if he means it or not. He plays with an intensity that I have rarely seen anywhere before. When he’s in the zone, it’s impossible to look away from him. 

Drummer Zolf Smith is self-taught, but he might as well have been playing since he was a child. If I hadn’t seen Still Working on the Name perform back when they were still doing shows in shitty London pubs, I wouldn’t believe how far he’s come since then. He was good back then – he’s phenomenal now. He’s quiet, and focused, and he might even be the mysterious one of this group, if it wasn’t for…

Bassist, Sasha Racket. What is there to say about Sasha Racket? Rumours, mostly, since she rarely has any actual answers for the press. Most of what we know about her we know from her bandmates. For instance, she’s the only member who’s actually originally from London. There is also a rumour that she didn’t actually know how to play the bass when she joined the band, but that by the first rehearsal she had managed to learn enough to keep up. It’s hard to imagine that this could be true, knowing what we know about her talent, but it is certainly an interesting story. And since none of the members, including Miss Racket herself, have either confirmed or denied it, the story lives on. 

Together they really are like a well-oiled machine – or perhaps a well-oiled artificial intelligence, if the backstory for their first studio album Mr. Ceiling is anything to go by. Watching them interact behind the scenes is almost as enjoyable as watching them on stage together; I believe I called the experience a “true joy” the first time I ever saw them play, and I stand by that. 

Still Working on the Name’s first headlining tour started last night with the first of two London shows. The second London show takes place tonight, and tomorrow they leave for Paris. 

The tour will consist of a total of 21 shows in 18 cities, and will run for the next month. 

For information about tour dates and tickets, see the link below.

**May 14, 2019: Still Working on the Name drummer and founder Zolf Smith spotted in London  
** Written by Amelie Rose

Has Still Working on the Name lost yet another member? Their drummer and founder Zolf Smith was spotted in London this morning despite the fact that they have a show in Vienna this evening. We have not been able to reach either Mr. Smith or the band’s manager Oscar Wilde for comments, but we will continue to update this story as it develops. 

As of right now, all that is clear is that Mr. Smith is not where he is supposed to be. 


	2. i got so goddamn drunk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hamid steps up to the microphone, stage persona firmly in place.
> 
> "It seems we’re starting the night off strong with some technical difficulties. We’re waiting for the go ahead from our sound tech, so I’ve been told to stall for a bit. Firstly, we’d like to thank you all for coming. This has been an absolutely incredible journey for us, and we’re grateful that you could all make it to see our hard work pay off."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all SO MUCH for all the incredibly lovely comments you left on the prologue! 
> 
> And thank you to Zoë and Naif and Lamia who read through this chapter months ago when I was convinced it was shit and told me it wasn't.
> 
> Also, fun fact: I was very hungover while working on the first draft of this chapter and I feel like that really adds to the authenticity of it.
> 
> The chapter title is from Fucked Up by Young Rising Sons.
> 
> Chapter specific content warnings: Binge drinking resulting in blackouts, vomiting, and hangovers.

**April 13, 2019**

**London**

"Come on, Zolf, let’s go," Oscar says. "Let’s get you home."

"Home?" Zolf asks drunkenly, stumbling a bit. Oscar reaches down and wraps an arm around Zolf’s shoulder, steadying him.

"Yes. Or, back to my flat, anyway. I’m not sure you should be left on your own right now."

" _Your_ flat?" Zolf pulls away, stumbling to the side. Oscar grabs him again before he can stumble into the road. He reaches out with his free hand to hail a cab.

"What’s wrong with my flat?" Oscar asks, amused, as a cab pulls up next to them.

"Nothin’," Zolf says, trying to shake his head as Oscar helps him inside. "Just don’t wanna im- impose. Don’t wanna ruin your night."

Oscar laughs a bit. "I can assure you I’d much rather you ruin my night than ruin my schedule tomorrow by not being on time for rehearsal."

Zolf doesn’t say anything, just leans against the car window. His eyes are closed, and Oscar thinks he may be falling asleep. He might as well – gods know he’ll need as much sleep as he can get if he wants to be functioning tomorrow.

If Oscar wasn’t busy worrying about how much Zolf has had to drink, he might find him endearing like this. Zolf is usually so serious, so focused. It’s nice to see him relax a bit. Though he’s definitely overdone it this time. Oscar can only imagine what his hangover is going to be like.

He makes sure Zolf’s seatbelt is fastened properly before telling the driver his address, and sinking back into his own seat.

* * *

Waking up, Zolf’s first thought is that this might actually not be so bad. He has a bit of a headache, and he doesn’t feel like he’s really slept, but that’s to be expected. Then he opens his eyes, and it all comes rushing over him. Getting up off the couch he’s apparently been sleeping on, he realises that he’s still wearing his prosthesis, and oh, that’s not ideal. He takes a second to realise that he’s in Wilde’s flat, and then another to thank the gods for his flat’s open floor plan. And then he’s rushing into the kitchen to throw up in the sink.

As he’s rinsing out his mouth with a glass of water, a door opens down the hall. He turns his head to look just as Wilde enters the kitchen, and _oh_.

This isn’t the first time he’s seeing Wilde early in the morning. They shared a tour bus for over a month just a year ago, and in less than two weeks he’ll get a repeat of that experience. But he’s never seen him like this. He’s wearing a pair of soft looking sleep shorts, and an oversized Still Working on the Name t-shirt Zolf is pretty sure they haven’t sold since before they got signed. It looks soft and tattered, like he’s worn it a lot.

Wilde is kind enough to not comment on where Zolf is standing bent over his sink, so Zolf doesn’t comment on the fact that Wilde looks like he’s barely slept.

"Good morning," Wilde mumbles, wandering sleepily over to the coffee maker to turn it on. Zolf continues gurgling water and spitting it out until the worst of the taste in his mouth is gone. He refills the glass and starts taking slow sips, closing his eyes and leaning back against the counter.

"We should talk about what happened last night," Wilde says after a few minutes, pouring himself a cup of coffee, and handing another one to Zolf.

Zolf accepts it, inhaling the scent of the freshly brewed coffee. "I’d really rather not," he says.

Wilde smiles a little at that, but keeps going. "If we were talking as friends, I’d let you get away with that. But unfortunately, as your manager, it’s my job. Is this something I need to worry about?"

Zolf takes a long sip of coffee that’s both way too hot and way too strong, but it’s a convenient way to give himself some time to answer. "No, I - no," he says. "It’s fine."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes," Zolf says. "Things just got a bit out of hand last night. It won’t happen again."

"Okay. I’m going to trust you on that," Wilde says.

He checks his phone quickly, then looks back at Zolf. "I’m gonna take a shower, and then the bathroom’s all yours."

Zolf leans against the counter and closes his eyes, letting the memories of the previous night wash over him, trying to figure out where it had all gone wrong.

* * *

**April 12, 2019**

_The venue is buzzing with excitement. Some of the songs they’re playing tonight have already been released as singles, but the full album doesn’t actually come out until midnight._

_A lot of their friends have made it tonight. As they walk on stage, Zolf catches a glimpse of Azu at the back of the room talking to Ed. She’s not here as head of security, she’s left that task to Ed for the night, but she told Zolf once that it was difficult to turn off that instinct to always be on the lookout for trouble. Tjelvar is here, most likely covering the release for his paper. Barnes and Carter are somewhere in the crowd too, Zolf knows. He hasn’t seen them since they toured together the previous summer, but they promised they’d make it._

_As the quick message comes through from Cel, Hamid steps up to the microphone, stage persona firmly in place._

_"It seems we’re starting the night off strong with some technical difficulties. We’re waiting for the go ahead from our sound tech, so I’ve been told to stall for a bit. Firstly, we’d like to thank you all for coming. This has been an absolutely incredible journey for us, and we’re grateful that you could all make it to see our hard work pay off." Hamid chuckles. "Hopefully, anyway. We haven’t seen any of the feedback yet." The audience laughs with him. No matter how many times Zolf sees Hamid do this, he’s always amazed at the ease of his performance. Hamid keeps the audience in the palm of his hand, and he makes it seem effortless._

_"And while I have you here," Hamid continues. "I’d like to say a few words on behalf of all of us. We couldn’t have done all of this without you and your incredible support. It really means the world to us. And that’s to all of you listening at home, too. And thank you to all of the incredible artists and friends that have agreed to come out and support us tonight. Special thanks to Vesseek, who will be coming on tour with us next month."_

_Grizzop starts playing the opening to one of Vesseek’s singles, and the audience loses it. Hamid laughs, pacing back and forth on stage, microphone in hand. "Thank you, Grizzop. And on that note, let’s give it up for my bandmates, huh? Grizzop drik acht Amsterdam on guitar, Sasha Racket on bass, and Zolf Smith on drums. Thank you for going on this crazy adventure with me." Pause for applause._

_Finally, they get the go ahead from Cel._

_"Okay, I’m being told we’re good to go, and I know you didn’t just come here to listen to me ramble on. So without any further delay… We’re Still Working on the Name, and this first song is called Ashes to Ashes, Funk to Funky."_

* * *

_After their set they pile off stage together. They’re quickly separated by the crowd of people all wanting to talk to them. He hears more than sees Hamid yelling out for his sisters as he reaches them. They’ve both made it to London for the release, and Zolf knows Hamid hasn’t seen them in months. He’s fairly certain Grizzop has gone off to find Vesseek, and he doesn’t catch where Sasha ends up, but then, he rarely does._

_Zolf spots Wilde at the back of the room, and starts heading towards him._

_"What did you think?" he asks once he’s close enough for Wilde to hear him over the noise of the venue._

_"It’s gonna be great for sales," Wilde says. He doesn’t look up from his phone, presumably keeping an eye out for fan and press reactions. "People are already loving it."_

_Zolf rolls his eyes. "That’s not what I meant. What did_ you _think?"_

_Wilde looks up, finally, a soft look on his face. "Oh, Zolf, you know I love the album. And you always put on great shows."_

_"You know this is supposed to be a party, right?"_

_Wilde is already looking at his phone again. "Hmm, yes," he says absentmindedly._

_Reaching out, Zolf grabs Wilde’s phone from his hands before he has time to react. Wilde immediately tries to grab it back, but Zolf has already stuffed it into his back pocket._

_"Zolf, give me my phone," Wilde says. He tries to keep his tone serious, but he’s smiling._

_"You can have it back after you’ve had_ one _drink."_

_"Do you have any idea how many things can go wrong during one drink?"_

_"No, but I’m sure you’ll tell me. Now, come on." Zolf is already walking backwards towards the bar, grinning at the incredulous look on Wilde’s face._

* * *

Zolf had expected Wilde to ask for his phone back right after finishing his one drink, but surprisingly he hadn’t. They’d talked for a while, greeting various friends and acquaintances as they came up to the bar. It had been nice, Zolf thinks, to see Wilde relax a bit.

The night gets blurrier from there. He knows he’d been drinking a lot, and dancing, and generally having a good time, but it all bleeds together after a while. He doesn’t even remember giving Wilde his phone back, though he knows he must have.

At some point he remembers ending up back at the bar with Barnes. He doesn’t recall their conversation, but he remembers looking across the room and seeing Wilde talking to Carter. He remembers the look on Barnes’ face when he followed his gaze across the room, but he doesn’t remember if he said anything about it.

He remembers what happened next, though.

* * *

_Trying to find his way to the bathroom when he’s six drinks in, turns out, surprisingly, to be more difficult than Zolf had anticipated. He’s not sure where he is, but he thinks he must have taken a turn somewhere. He can still hear the music coming from the party though, so he can’t have gotten too lost._

_Finally, he reaches a door he thinks he recognises. Pushing it open, he finds himself back in the hallway leading to the bathrooms. The music is louder now, closer, and he thinks he’s finally on the right track again._

_He rounds a corner, and comes to a stop. A few feet ahead, half hidden in an alcove, is Wilde. He’s standing with his back to Zolf, and he’s clearly not alone. He can’t tell who the other person is, but, thinking about what he’d seen earlier, he can make an educated guess._

_He doesn’t stay long enough to fully take in what they’re doing, but it really doesn’t take a genius. His heart is pounding in his chest as he turns and hurries back to the party, trying and failing to ignore the familiar surge of jealousy as it hits him._

_He needs another drink._

* * *

Zolf recalls seeing Wilde and Carter together. He remembers turning and heading back to the bar and ordering more drinks. Stronger drinks. After that it’s all gone, but he can guess at the gaps easily enough. He’d drunk himself stupid. Probably made a fool of himself.

He fishes his phone out of his back pocket, where it’s miraculously not dead, and he slowly starts thumbing through the notifications.

It doesn’t take him long to find the string of WhatsApp messages sent in their group chat the night before.

Hamid (00:47): Has anyone seen Zolf?

Grizzop (00:54): Not in a while

Azu (00:56): He was dancing with me and Sasha about an hour ago. I haven’t seen him since.

Hamid (00:59): I don’t want to leave until we know where he is.

Sasha (01:02): He was pretty drunk the last time I saw him.

Oscar (01:10): I’ve got him. You can all go home and sleep if you want. I’ll take care of Zolf.

He doesn’t reply to any of them.

_I’ve got him_ , Wilde had said, and even through his hangover Zolf feels the butterflies fluttering in his stomach at those three words.

The feeling sours, though, when he remembers Wilde and Carter together. Wilde probably would have gone home with him if he hadn’t needed to babysit Zolf.

He can’t help but feel like he’d ruined Wilde’s night, and knowing that he would never complain about it just makes the whole thing worse. He does so much for all of them, and Zolf couldn’t even let him have one night of fun without getting drunk and fucking it up.

He hears the shower shut off down the hall, and in a moment of guilt and panic, he grabs his jacket. He pats the pockets, making sure he still has his wallet and keys on him. And then he leaves.

Zolf texts Wilde when he gets in the uber, letting him know he’s headed home to change. He swallows down the guilt and the nausea mixing in his stomach, and wonders how he’s going to face everyone at rehearsal later.


	3. and keep your feet on the ground

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Someone please make sure Zolf drinks some water. I can’t stand to see him like this." 
> 
> Zolf just barely catches the smirk on his face before pushing the doors open. 
> 
> "Oh, fuck off," Zolf yells after him, flipping him off with his free hand.
> 
> He can hear Wilde’s laugh all the way down the corridor. 
> 
> "Well," Hamid says, as the doors shut behind Wilde. "I suppose we should get started?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is later than I wanted it to be, but shit happens.
> 
> Thank you to Holo for reading through this for me, and thank you to Lamia for letting me ask her stupid questions about how head wounds work.
> 
> The title is from A Quiet Thing That No One Ever Knows by Brand New.
> 
> Chapter specific content warnings: Hangovers, arguments, mentions of violence, and mentions of blood.

**April 13, 2019**

**London**

He’s late. He knows he’s late. His head is throbbing, and his leg is aching, and he still feels vaguely nauseated. Really, all he wants to do is turn around and crawl back into bed, but considering that Hamid has sent him three texts in the ten minutes that have passed since he was supposed to be at the rehearsal space, he doesn’t think that is an option.

He grips the handle of his cane tightly as he walks up to the door, running his free hand through his beard in nervous habit. He hears Wilde’s voice before anyone else’s, laughing at something. Ignoring the way his stomach lurches at the sound, he pushes the door open.

As he expected, everyone else is already there, and they turn towards him as he enters. Grizzop, Hamid and Sasha are all seated on the worn old couch that’s pushed up against one wall. Wilde is standing a few steps away, in the middle of the room. They all look slightly worn from the night before, but none look as exhausted as Zolf feels.

"Sorry I’m late," Zolf says. "Lost track of time this morning." He very deliberately does not look at Wilde, though he notices that both Sasha and Grizzop do.

They all know that Wilde was the one who found him the night before, but he’s not sure if he’s told the others that Zolf slept over at his place. He knows either way he’s probably going to get questions about it.

"Right!" Wilde says after a few moments of silence. "Since you’re all here." He claps his hands together and looks from the sofa, to Zolf, and back. "I’ll leave you to it, I really just wanted to congratulate you all on a very successful launch. The sales are looking great so far, and I can only imagine they’ll continue to rise in the next few days. The livestream was a huge success, and the album has largely been praised both by critics and by fans on social media."

"That’s great," Hamid grins, looking pleased. "I’m glad people like it."

"Ticket sales have gone up in the past 24 hours, too," Wilde continues. "The London shows are sold out, as is the Paris show, and one of the Amsterdam shows. The rest are doing okay, but we anticipate better numbers as we get closer to the show dates. I think that’s all I wanted to say. I’ll be in my office if you need me for anything."

Zolf closes his eyes briefly, rubbing a hand across his forehead. He opens them again to see Wilde crossing the room towards him.

As he passes Zolf, he looks down at him, then turns back towards the others. "Someone please make sure Zolf drinks some water. I can’t stand to see him like this."

Zolf just barely catches the smirk on his face before pushing the doors open.

"Oh, fuck off," Zolf yells after him, flipping him off with his free hand.

He can hear Wilde’s laugh all the way down the corridor.

"Well," Hamid says, as the doors shut behind Wilde. "I suppose we should get started?"

* * *

Rehearsal is fine. Zolf manages to pull himself together enough to do what is needed of him. He listens to Hamid’s notes, tries his best to incorporate them. He even drinks the bottle of water he’s handed without complaint.

During their break, Sasha finds him leaning against the wall outside the building.

"Hamid told me to get you. He wants us to finalise the set list today."

Zolf nods. "I’ll be there in a minute."

Sasha lingers, which is how Zolf can tell that she has more to say. If she was done talking she would have just walked away already. She’s not usually one for small talk.

"Must be a pretty bad hangover, if it made you turn up late to rehearsals."

"Yeah," he says, taking a deep breath. "I – Uh, Wilde let me stay on his couch. I went home this morning, and it took me a while to get ready. Longer than I thought it would, I guess."

Sasha nods. "Yeah, he told us he found you last night. Where did you go off to, anyway?"

Zolf laughs, ignores how strangled it sounds. "I have no idea," he says truthfully. "I don’t remember much past –" Past finding Carter and Wilde tangled up together, he doesn’t say. "Uh, past being on the dance floor with you and Azu." It’s not a lie, exactly. It’s just not the whole truth.

"Well, at least you had a good time," she says with a grin that Zolf can’t quite find it in himself to fully return. "Come on," Sasha says. "Let’s get back inside before Hamid comes to find us."

* * *

"I’m not sure about putting Ashes to Ashes right before Ghost Stories. They’re very different vibes."

"We could do The Ocean Calls Me Home in between?" Sasha suggests. "Break it up a bit, y’know? Give the audience the chance to come down a bit before we make them cry."

"And then The Finish Line after that?" Grizzop adds. "I think they’d sound good paired up together."

Hamid nods. "That’s a good idea. And then we can throw in Magic! to bring it back up again, and save London/Other London for the encore. That’s still one of our most popular songs. Zolf, what do you think?"

"Yeah," Zolf says, bobbing his head. "Sounds like a plan." He has his eyes closed, a cold bottle of water pressed against his temple.

"Were you even listening?"

Zolf opens his eyes, looking over at a clearly irritated Hamid. "Ashes to Ashes, Ocean, Ghost Stories, Finish Line," he recites back to him. "I’m hungover, not deaf."

"Just making sure we’re all on the same page," Hamid replies, turning his gaze back down to the notebook in front of him. "Considering the state of you last night, and the fact that you were late this morning, it wouldn’t surprise me if you also weren’t paying attention."

Zolf swallows down his instinctual response to that. "I said I’m sorry," he says. "I don’t know what else you want from me."

"I just want bandmates who don’t get blackout drunk the night before a rehearsal. Especially when our first headlining tour starts in two weeks, and we’re nowhere close to being ready for it."

"Well, then maybe we shouldn’t have scheduled a rehearsal the day after our fucking album release party."

Hamid rolls his eyes. "Whatever," he says. "Let’s just run through this so we can all go home."

"Perfect," Zolf says, dropping the water bottle and picking up his sticks.

* * *

"He’s just stressed," Sasha says when rehearsal is over, handing Zolf another bottle of water. Hamid left pretty much as soon as they finished, not stopping to talk to any of them.

"We’re all _stressed_." Zolf twists the cap off the bottle, downing half of it in one go. "Doesn’t mean he has to bite my head off about it."

"You’re right," Grizzop says. "Hamid was out of line. But he’s also right that you kind of lost it last night."

Sasha nods. "You were fine one minute and then the next time I saw you you were completely out of it. You don’t usually lose control like that." She pauses for a second, then, "I think Hamid’s worried we’ll end up with another Bertie situation."

The silence stretches between them for several long moments before Zolf responds.

"I’m not –" he starts, remembering the bright fire of jealousy that had burned through him at the sight of Wilde and Carter together. His face heats up at the memory of it. "I just – I just lost count of how many drinks I’d had, is all. It doesn’t mean I’m going to turn into Bertie." He’s not like him. He’s _not_. He won’t be.

"Look," Grizzop says. "We’re two weeks away from tour, and we’re all tired from last night. That’s all."

"I know," Zolf sighs.

They tidy up the room in silence, and then they leave together. They’re at the front door, Sasha pushing it open and walking out into the fresh spring air. Zolf is about to follow her when he hears his name being called from down the hall.

Turning, he sees Wilde poking head out of his office. "Can you come here for a second?" he asks.

"You go ahead," Zolf tells the others, turning to walk down the hall.

By the time Zolf reaches the office, Wilde has already disappeared back inside.

"If this is about to be another lecture on not drinking too much you can save it. Hamid already laid into me," Zolf says when he enters.

Wilde looks over at him, sitting down behind his desk. "What? No," he says. "I just need you to sign something for the label. The others already did theirs earlier." He pushes a sheet of paper across the desk towards him.

Picking up a pen, Zolf signs it and hands it back to him. Wilde drops it on the side of his desk, and goes back to whatever he’d been working on before he’d gone to fetch Zolf. He recognises the look of a man who does not plan to stop working anytime soon.

"That’s all," Wilde says when Zolf makes no move to leave, not looking up from the screen.

"You should take a break," Zolf says. "Have you even eaten today?"

Wilde shakes his head, still not looking up. "I’ll eat when I’ve gone through the rest of these interview requests," he says. "It’s honestly incredible how many people receive the guidelines we send out and then proceed to ask for an exception _just this one time_."

Zolf raises an eyebrow. "What kind of exceptions do they ask for?"

"More like what kind of exceptions _don’t_ they ask for," he says. "They want to ask you about your accident, they want to ask about Sasha’s past. And fucking _everyone_ wants to ask about what happened with Bertie." Wilde lets out a long sigh, leaning back in his chair, frustrated. Finally, he looks at Zolf.

In the light from the screen Zolf can just make out the small silvery scar just above Wilde’s eyebrow. If he hadn’t known it was there, he might have missed it. But he was the one who cleaned and bandaged it, so he’s not likely to forget.

_I think Hamid’s worried we’ll end up with another Bertie situation._ Sasha’s voice echoes in his head, and the memories that surface are ones he usually tries his best not to think about.

He wasn’t there that night, when Bertie left. He just saw the aftermath of it.

* * *

**July 4, 2018**

**Berlin**

_Zolf had elected not to go out with the others after their show that night, so when Azu calls, he’s in his hotel room, getting ready for bed._

_"Hey, what’s up," he asks, putting his phone to his ear. He’s expecting to hear thumping music and cheering people in the background, so the silence he’s met with instead is a surprise._

_"It’s Oscar," she says, and Zolf frowns._

_"What happened?"_

_"I don’t know – I just got here. He and Bertie were arguing, and I think Bertie hit him?"_

_"What–"_

_"Oscar says he doesn’t need a doctor, but his face is bleeding. I don’t think it’s too bad, but you should probably take a look. We’re heading back to the hotel now."_

_"Where’s Bertie?" Zolf asks._

_"I have no idea. He was drunk, so he’s probably stumbled off somewhere. I told Ed to go look for him, but who knows where he might have gone. To be honest he’s not my biggest priority at the moment."_

_"Yeah, of course. I have a small first aid kit, but if it’s anything more serious we’ll need to get him to a hospital. Meet you in the lobby?"_

_"Yes, sounds good."_

_She hangs up, and Zolf hurries to get dressed. He exits the elevator just seconds before he sees Azu and Wilde entering the lobby. Azu has a hand on Wilde’s shoulder, but he seems to be walking fine on his own. There’s a cut above his eyebrow that’s bleeding steadily down the side of his face._

_Azu spots Zolf and gently guides Wilde towards the elevators with the hand on his shoulder, but Wilde shrugs it off. "What happened?" Zolf asks when they’re close enough to hear._

_"Nothing," Wilde insists, though he does allow both Zolf and Azu to follow him back to his room._

* * *

_It’s not a serious injury, in the end. Zolf cleans the wound as carefully as he can, but Wilde still winces a little when he runs a damp cloth across it._

_"Sorry," Zolf says. They’re alone in Wilde’s room. Azu has gone out into the hallway to call Ed and see if he’s found Bertie._

_"It’s fine," Wilde says. "It’s not your fault."_

_"You’re not gonna need stitches." Zolf runs the cloth across the wound one final time, then covers the cut with a small bandage. "Just let me know how you feel in the morning."_

_Zolf turns away to repack his first aid kit as Wilde goes into his bathroom to change into his sleep clothes. When Zolf turns back, it’s just in time to see Wilde re-enter the room, pulling his sleeves down over the finger shaped bruises starting to bloom around one of his wrists._

_Before Zolf can think about what he’s doing he’s crossing the room and gently taking hold of Wilde’s wrist, pulling the sleeve up to examine it._

_He looks up at Wilde, who’s staring down at the bruises. "What did he do?" Zolf asks, and he’s surprised at the anger in his voice. From the way Wilde’s eyes snap up to his face, he is too._

_"It doesn’t matter." Wilde shakes his head lightly. "Have you seen my phone? I need to make sure this hasn’t gotten out."_

_"No," Zolf says. "You’re going to go to bed. And then tomorrow we’ll deal with this. I’m still technically a nurse, so you have to listen to me."_

* * *

He never asked Wilde for the full story, just patched him up as best he could. The full details of what happened that night were never released anywhere, but the media speculated wildly using the pictures and videos that surfaced on social media. Wilde did his best to take care of it, but apparently people still want gossip.

"You know you don’t have to be the one to deal with this, right? I can’t imagine you like being reminded of Bertie all the time," Zolf says softly.

Wilde shakes his head. "It’s fine, Zolf. I’m used to it. Besides, once the tour starts, these requests will go through Skraak, since he’s the tour manager now."

They’re silent for a few moments, and then Wilde looks up again, sighing. "You should go home, Zolf. Get some rest."

Zolf nods. "You too, Wilde. Don’t stay too late."

Wilde laughs a bit. "Sure thing," he says. "I’ll see you tomorrow."

"Yeah. See you tomorrow."


	4. i'm a stitch away from making it

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The next two weeks are a blur of rehearsals, interviews, and a million tiny little things they have to get done in preparation for the tour. 
> 
> Endless rounds of interviews and early morning talk shows and radio stations leave Zolf feeling drained. He wasn’t made for never-ending questions about his creative process or what made him want to start a band or what his love life is like. 
> 
> Still though, Zolf can’t help but think it’s all worth it – all the attention, all the stress. Because at the end of it all, they get to on stage and play their songs in front of hundreds or thousands of people who have come just for them. And there really is nothing that compares to that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the lovely comments you left on the last chapter. It makes me so happy to see that other people enjoy reading this fic as much as I enjoy writing it.
> 
> And big thanks to Naif and Carlin, who kicked my brain into gear when I was working on this chapter and didn't know what to write.
> 
> Also, if you haven't already read the two EXCELLENT fics that have been written in this verse by [Naif](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29926572) and [Zoë](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29947671) PLEASE DO!!! 
> 
> The chapter title is from The (After) Life of the Party by Fall Out Boy.
> 
> Chapter specific content warnings: Anxiety, grief, mentions of alcohol.

**May 2, 2019**

**London**

The next two weeks are a blur of rehearsals, interviews, and a million tiny little things they have to get done in preparation for the tour.

Endless rounds of interviews and early morning talk shows and radio stations leave Zolf feeling drained. He wasn’t made for never-ending questions about his creative process or what made him want to start a band or what his love life is like.

He briefly goes viral when they’re asked what music they’re listening to at the moment and Zolf says Taylor Swift. His Twitter notifications are taken over by mentions ranging from memes to outraged fans demanding that he take it back. Most of it he hears about from Hamid, since he rarely goes on Twitter.

Still though, Zolf can’t help but think it’s all worth it – all the attention, all the stress. Because at the end of it all, they get to on stage and play their songs in front of hundreds or thousands of people who have come just for them. And there really is nothing that compares to that.

And when Tjelvar Stornsnasson asks him, a few hours before their first London show, how he deals with the fame and the attention they get, that’s the answer he gives him.

* * *

Sound check goes by painlessly. First Vesseek, and then the band. Hamid pops out a quick series of "Check, check, one, two, three"s to help Cel adjust the levels of his microphone, and then they move on to Grizzop. Sasha and Zolf don’t have mics, but they help check the back-up ones. Once they’re all satisfied with their sound, Cel gives them the clear and they all spread out. There are hours, still, before they go on stage, and they all have different ways to kill time.

Zolf thinks he sees Grizzop and Sasha sneaking off somewhere carrying a handful of apples and some of Sasha’s knives, and he decides immediately that he doesn’t want to know. He just hopes that if someone gets hurt they go to Azu or Wilde instead of him.

At the other side of the room Vesseek is showing Hamid something on their guitar, gesturing excitedly. Hamid is nodding along. Zolf considers joining them in what’s no doubt an interesting discussion, but he decides against it.

Instead, he drops down onto one of the couches in the green room and drapes an arm over his eyes. Maybe if he’s lucky he’ll be able to get some rest before showtime. He doesn’t remember falling asleep, but after what feels like mere moments, someone is shaking him awake.

"Vesseek is going on now," Wilde says when Zolf opens his eyes. "Could you go find Hamid for me? I think he went off to take a phone call but it’s been a while."

* * *

It takes Zolf longer than he expects to find Hamid, and when he finally does, it’s more or less an accident. He’s heading back towards the green room, intending to tell Wilde that he can’t find him, when he rounds a corner and sees Hamid standing at the end of a hallway, phone at his ear.

"Yes, Saira, I know that but –" Zolf stops in his tracks when he hears his voice.

Hamid looks up and spots him. Zolf can’t quite read the look on his face before he turns away again. "Look," he says. "I’ve got to go, but will you just try? I know it’s a long shot, but…" he trails off, apparently listening. "Thank you," he says finally, then hangs up.

When he turns back, he’s wearing an expression Zolf normally only sees when they’re dealing with the press.All composed and with a stiff smile and an expression that says he’s listening intently to whoever he’s talking to.

"You alright, Hamid?" Zolf asks.

"Yeah, I’m fine," Hamid replies, almost too quickly. "Why wouldn’t I be?"

"Alright," Zolf says. "If you say so. Um, well, Wilde wanted me to come find you. Vesseek is going on now, so I guess he wants us back in the green room."

"Okay, thank you, Zolf." He turns to leave.

"Hey," Zolf says, putting a hand on Hamid’s shoulder. "You know you can talk to me if there’s something wrong, right?"

Hamid looks up at him, the look on his face inscrutable for just a moment, before his PR smile is back. "Of course I know that," he says, and then he’s gone, and Zolf can do nothing but stand there and wonder what he just witnessed.

* * *

"Good evening, London," Hamid purrs into the mic, barely audible in Zolf’s earpiece over the sound of the screaming fans. "I hope you’re ready for us." The crowd goes wild.

Hamid cups a hand against his ear, looking around the stage. "I don’t know, folks, do you think they’re ready? I’m not so sure." Zolf catches sight of his grin before he turns back around to face the crowd.

"I don’t know, Hamid," Grizzop says, leaning towards his mic. "I think we’ve definitely heard better."

"I agree, Grizzop," Hamid says. Zolf can practically hear the laughter Hamid is trying to suppress as the roar of the crowd grows even louder.

"Now they’re getting there," Sasha says, leaning over to speak into Grizzop’s mic.

"What do you think, Zolf?" Hamid asks, turning to face him.

Zolf picks up the spare mic they have lying on his platform. "I think they’re ready," he says, grinning.

"Alright, alright," Hamid laughs. "Do you guys like the new album?" This gets the loudest reaction so far. "Sounds like you do. Okay, let’s get this show on the road."

* * *

When they pile off stage after the first part of their set, they’re laughing and grinning at each other. The adrenaline is pumping through Zolf like bolts of energy. He wants to go back out there immediately to start their encore, but he knows they have to wait. Let the anticipation build a little, let the audience begin to wonder if they’re really coming back out there.

Not that there’s really any doubt.

"Alright," Hamid says once he reaches the mic again. "We’ll do a few more, since you insist."

Zolf jumps straight into the opening beat to London/Other London, and Grizzop and Sasha follow suit. Hamid starts singing the first verse, and the audience sings the words back at him.

This is what a good show feels like, Zolf thinks. This is why they do this.

* * *

**May 3, 2019**

For their second London show, Barnes and Carter have backstage access. Zolf hasn’t seen either of them since the release party a few weeks earlier when he was absolutely drunk off his ass, so it’s nice to see them when they show up a few hours before the show.

"We’re so glad you could make it," Hamid tells them, pulling Barnes into a hug.

"We couldn’t let you leave London without giving you a proper send-off," Carter says. "And we obviously had to come see you perform for real. It’s like seeing your babies all grown up."

Zolf rolls his eyes. "Alright, settle down, Carter."

Carter laughs. "A ray of sunshine, as always."

The next few hours are spent hanging out and waiting for showtime. There’s a cooler of drinks in the corner, and Zolf has just gotten a fresh beer. He’s on his way back to his seat when Barnes comes up to him.

"Hey, Zolf, can I talk to you?" he asks, gesturing away from the group. Zolf frowns, confused, but follows him. 

He leads them to the corner of the room, far enough away that the others won’t overhear them.

"What’s up?" Zolf asks, trying to fight down the anxious anticipation he’s currently feeling.

Barnes hesitates for just a moment, then, "Do you remember what we talked about?"

Zolf’s frown deepens. "No? Talked about when?"

"At the release party."

He vaguely remembers talking to Barnes at the party, but he can’t actually recall any of their conversation. Most of the night is a blur to him, except...

* * *

**April 12, 2019**

_Wilde is across the room, laughing at something Carter has just said, and Zolf can’t stop staring at him._

_“Are you okay?” Barnes asks, frowning. Then realisation forms on his face. He looks from Zolf to Carter and Wilde and back again. “Are you two…?”_

_“No,” Zolf says quickly. “No, I – no. We’re not.”_

_“Oh,” Barnes says. “But you want to be?”_

_Zolf doesn’t reply, but apparently he doesn’t need to._

_“That’s rough,” Barnes says, clapping him on the shoulder. “How long have you…?” He doesn’t say the words, and Zolf is grateful. He thinks if he had, he would have walked away. This way he can at least pretend that they’re talking about something else._

_“Years,” Zolf says._

_“Jeez. That must be difficult for you. Does he know?”_

_Zolf shakes his head. "Of course not."_

* * *

**May 3, 2019**

"I - yeah, no." Zolf shakes his head, trying to shake the image of Wilde and Carter from the forefront of his mind. "I have no idea what you’re talking about."

Barnes laughs. "That’s okay. You were pretty drunk that night. Well, you told me some things. About you and Wilde?"

Ice cold dread grips Zolf’s stomach instantly. There goes his last hope that this could possibly be about anything else. "I have no idea what you’re talking about," he repeats shakily.

Barnes laughs again, clapping a hand onto Zolf’s shoulder. "Don’t worry, mate. I’m not gonna tell anyone. I’m actually here to give you an offer."

"What?" Zolf looks up at Barnes, confused.

"Well, Friedrich is thinking about quitting. The touring is taking a lot out of him, he wants to retire, settle down somewhere. So, we’re in the market for a new drummer."

"Are you asking me what I think you’re asking?" Zolf says slowly.

Barnes smirks. "Well, that depends on what you think I’m asking."

"I’m not going to just abandon my band," Zolf says.

Barnes holds his hands up, an easy smile on his face. "And I’m not asking you to. I just want you to consider it. You could even do both if you want. But if you join us, you could sign with our manager. Might make it a bit easier if you don’t have to see him every day."

Unbidden, Zolf’s eyes find Wilde where he’s sitting at the other side of the room, working away at something on his iPad.

"You don’t have to do this to yourself, man. It can’t be healthy. Just think about it, okay? Let me know." Barnes claps Zolf on the shoulder again, and then walks over to where Carter and Grizzop are talking.

Zolf is left standing there, not quite sure what to think, or how to react. The chilly anxiety that had gripped him at the beginning of the conversation slowly begins to thaw, leaving exhaustion in its wake. The thought that he had told Barnes about his feelings for Wilde in some drunken stupor leaves another layer of dread on top of everything else. If he’d told Barnes, who knows what he could have said to Wilde when he was dragging him home to let him sleep on his couch.

The panicked rush of thoughts are interrupted suddenly when Sasha appears in front of him. "You good, Zolf?" she asks.

Zolf blinks rapidly, slowly coming back to himself. "Yeah," he says. "I’m fine."

"What were you talking about with Barnes? Seems like he left you pretty out of sorts over here." Her stare is steady, observant.

He shakes his head, trying to pull himself together. "No, no, it was nothing. Just congratulating us on the new album again."

He knows it’s not a convincing lie, and he wouldn’t blame her for calling him out on it. He’s grateful when she doesn’t.

"Alright," she says. "That was nice of him."

He tries to ignore the way his stomach twists as they rejoin the others.

* * *

He kept missing cues, jumping in just a beat too late, throwing the rhythm off completely. He was trying to focus on the music, and on the show, but his mind kept wandering back to his conversation with Barnes.

"If you could stay on rhythm that’d be great Zolf," Hamid had told him after. Sasha had shot him a look at that, but Zolf had just shaken his head at her, promising Hamid he’d do better next time.

Now, when the show is over, he has time to think. He doesn’t want to consider Barnes’ offer. He _can’t_ consider it. His band – his friends – need him. He can’t just abandon them for someone else. And, Wilde - well, he’s been dealing with this crush for a long time now. It’s not like anything’s changed. Except for the fact that he apparently told Barnes about it.

And he remembers the blazing heat of jealousy searing through him at the sight of Wilde and Carter making out. It’s not any of his business what Wilde gets up to in his private life.

He wishes he could just get rid of these feelings altogether. It would certainly make his life easier. It would probably make everyone’s lives easier, if he’s being honest. Or, alternatively, he could take Barnes up on his offer.

Maybe that’d be better. They could find another drummer easily – people are practically lining up to work with them.

They’re heading off to Paris in the morning. One more night in his own flat, and then he’s spending most of the next month living in a bus with the man he’s in love with. It’ll be fine. It will be fine. If he just keeps telling himself that, it has to come true, right?

He can almost hear Feryn’s voice in his head, telling him to breathe. "Deep breaths, Zolf, that’s it." That’s whathe would have said if he was here. The sudden grief that hits him at that thought is almost enough to take his breath from him again.

At least it distracts him from his conversation with Barnes.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Aftertaste](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29926572) by [ineffablenerd](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ineffablenerd/pseuds/ineffablenerd)
  * [Your mouth is a hurricane, something sweet before the pain](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29947671) by [makesometime](https://archiveofourown.org/users/makesometime/pseuds/makesometime)




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